Oliver was running away. And to be utterly honest, he was quite proud how his escape was proceeding. Because while he was most definitely heavily malnourished and dehydrated, he was also approximately thrice their size, far more suited towards running from a purely biological standpoint, and had the incredible advantage called sweating. He could not be completely certain of the sweating aspect, of course, as he had left them behind long before they would have begun to sweat, yet he felt that it was a reasonable assumption given their evolutionary ancestors’ status as ambush predators.
They also had certain advantages, of course, such as their incredible propensity for scampering up any surface they could dig their claws into, which included mushrooms. And that he, without his controllable rope made of socks, had little to no capabilities involving upwards lateral movement. Or that his desired speed made it quite necessary for him to break any and all location threads in his path, granting them something of a radar system within the nest which they had incredible familiarity with.
When all was accounted for, including his frequent stumbling breaks induced by thoughts such as, ‘could it be feasible to drink the stickiness of spiderwebs?’ while he panted for breath, they were essentially evenly matched.
Which was completely acceptable for him, as everything he then needed to accomplish was to remain evenly matched until he fell into an exit, which he simply knew was just within reach.
Then a... less-than-ideal decision surrounding the subject of where he should regain his vigour landed him in a rather unfortunate, if utterly fixable, situation. He had seemingly chosen to rest immediately before a bend in the tunnels would have granted him sight of the barren branches stretching over the fallen sea. They were, of course, not truly barren, simply more so than any other portions of the spire, due to any mushrooms of significant size being consumed by the mammoth-sized flying fish like creatures dwelling within the sea.
And yet, while the interesting biology of the new world fascinated Oliver, and always would, his current situation grasped his attention firmly as he stood upon the last portions of the nest. The area was not unlike a twilight zone, a place where nest softly bled into the branches covered in minuscule mushrooms, where the two united without the harsh borders constructed where the arachnoids expected intruders.
The problem then was that while there were somewhere between fifty and a hundred meters worth of wooden pathway left for him to tread, there were no ways available to go beyond said limited space. No obvious ones, at least, for there would, of course, be a path. But until he found said path, he would need to focus upon trickery and deceit for progress in resolving his predicament, namely through communicating with the thirty or so arachnoids behind him.
“Well, this is, if nothing more, quite the majestic view,” Oliver said, before he turned to where Khlop stood in the middle of the barricade which blocked his path. Well, perhaps barricade was not quite the right word. Really, they could be called a thigh-high fence with poisoned spikes. “Although, for any future appointments such as our current one, I would appreciate a warning before I run into a dead end, or perhaps a map.” Oliver suggested with a relaxed smile.
Khlop… Held a hand towards Oliver as she bent over panting, clearly requesting that he wait. Oliver then noticed that many others in their group were also panting heavily, and he smiled contentedly as he confirmed his theory on their ability, or rather lack thereof, to sweat.
Oliver then took a moment to further investigate his surroundings, where he found little more than a branch fifteen meters below and to the right of his branch, which he would have leapt to, had he not been pursued by expert climbers. There was also one situated above and to his right, which would have been quite the solution had he still possessed his extend-o-ball, with another branch slightly below the one he was on following the one above him.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, Antonova, and we will of course provide a map during any future escape attempts. We, sadly, have neither the time nor the resources to make one at the time, so we will simply have to ensure that you never again find yourself needing one.” Khlop said after she had righted herself.
“I must ask, Khlop, what kind of prevention you intend to use, because if it is, for example, the killing of my person, then I will need to take far more… barbaric, measures than I would prefer.” Oliver said, attempting to communicate deliberation over word choice, rather than hesitance as he paused meaningfully, attempting to depict a flash of distaste during his pause, as though the first word he thought of was too crude and violent for use. He also raised his chin ever so slightly, with an arched eyebrow, of course, enhancing the effect of his greater stature to depict a complete dismissal of any threat they may pose.
The thought then struck him that if he wished to truly ensure that his act was believable, he would need to portray himself as a slightly bipolar killer with competence, due to him acting rather like himself in earlier meetings. “But we will hopefully rise above such barbarisms, and peacefully discuss a solution acceptable to us all.” He said, smiling again with his usual cheer.
Oliver, after their many conversations with one another, knew that facial expressions were a borderline foreign philosophy to them, presumably due to their poor eyesight rendering them useless. This gave him two advantages, mainly that they were inept at seeing, nevermind translating, his facial expressions, while body language was far more instinctual, and that the distance between them helped him nicely with his acting. Not unlike performing for a group of the heavily short-sighted without their glasses. That, in concert with his eyes' ability to move while they were used to ones which could not, allowed him to pretend to watch his surroundings while in actuality paying close attention to Khlop. Which may have been the key to his success, as he was almost assured that it was her misunderstanding of his head movements that allowed him to see the glimmer of hesitance revealed by mistake before she answered.
“Yes, of course,” Khlop hissed in what he thought was sarcasm, “how could I be so foolish as to not expect that the human who allowed himself to be captured to let his compatriot's escape was in fact a web-weaving killer all along? It is, after all, the classical mark of a serial killer” Khlop said, making an… alarmingly compelling argument for him merely bluffing. Which was, of course, correct. He would not kill another sentient creature for something as inconsequential as this. However, the earlier hesitance with which she shifted still rang clear in Oliver’s mind, showing that she was unsure enough to not completely disregard the possibility, and by all estimates, he could only gain through committing to the bit. Because you should always commit to the bit.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Oliver languidly shrugged his shoulders in a bid to express relaxed confidence, before beginning to slowly stalk before them as best he could while imitating feline grace to communicate to their subconscious that he was a danger. “There is, as you quite honestly should know, a vast difference between a serial killer, and a person willing to kill for the good of his group. I have acted with the intent of granting you the opportunity to be civil, to release me and open up communications between our species. You have not taken said opportunity, which leads me to remove myself from your gracious care.” Oliver paused to tilt his back derisively, before breaking character and cheerfully continuing “as for the self-sacrifice you mentioned? Perhaps the best way to communicate the actual circumstances of that incident would be to remove the ‘self’ portion, and for me to explain that I would rather avoid a battle revealing the positions of your prisoners. Though I have to ask, what might be the reason for your intentional ignorance regarding them? I have theories, of course, and many could be true, however, I would rather ask you now than before now that I am in a, shall we say, more balanced dynamic with you.” Oliver said, continuing to pace as he shifted the direction of his head from one to another while maintaining observation of Khlop. After all, it was her decision regarding whether or not to call his bluff which would determine the proceedings.
Khlop stared for no more than a second intensive inspection before she spoke once more. “We are not the same as you, we do not judge purely on the basis of appearance, leaving very little room for us to enjoy the presence of those who attacked us based on ours. We let them go purposefully, to ensure that the other races knew of our numbers and the dangers of facing us.” Khlop explained carefully, as though waiting for something. Oliver, of course, knew she framed it as sympathetically as possible in an attempt at affecting him through empathy, and thus disproving his bit. He ensured that he gave no such indication, even if he thought it to be realistic that a misunderstanding may have caused some individuals to act rashly, and he truly worried that people may have been hurt during said altercations.
“How profoundly and sincerely noble of you, Khlop.” He sneered, mimicking Draco Malfoy to the best of his ability, “and I assume that the resource drain which five people of significantly greater size would entail had no role in your righteous calling?” Oliver saw Khlop shift with guilt, a fact he was rather delighted for, as it confirmed that she truly was good as he had suspected.
“And now that we are on the subject of resources, I would like to ask. What does keeping me incarcerated in your pit bring you in terms of actual benefits? I, of course, understand that many who followed you till this point understand the dangers associated with me, and expected to come to harm or perish in their quest. But is a single prisoner honestly worth the lives of multiple loyal allies? I quite honestly hope that is not the case, because that speaks of vastly incompetent allies, which is one of the few things even you do not deserve.”
“That is true.” Khlop conceded, before continuing. “But why would we need to strike you down? You cannot get through our line, so you will not attempt to do so, allowing us to blockade you here until you collapse from starvation, dehydration, or any amount of other afflictions. You cannot even properly attempt a doomed voyage on the fallen sea, as any thing which falls into it within the territory of the leaping mawfish get eaten. And even if you break through, we would catch you swiftly with all the strings you cut with your clumsy lumbering.” She then turned and spoke to her people in her own language without making use of vernacular of vastly varied worlds, and they began to construct a wall.
Oliver, meanwhile, was clenching and unclenching his fists impotently, as though he had failed when he desperately needed to triumph and was standing very still as he clearly withheld himself from doing something foolish. And in a sense, that was all utterly truthful. Of course, in actuality, he was impotent to celebrate the fantastic conclusion as he flexed his fists to expel his energy. After all, the majority of his difficulties related to escaping from this point were centred around his inability to swiftly procure a material he was capable of manipulating. Now? He had a comfortable period to fashion a rope of sorts, an upgrade, even, as it would be made from the spider silk which conveniently trailed towards his left along the path of the wind, towards the upwards... slope of the... spire.
Oliver’s mind immediately ground to a halt. There was not meant to be wind in the bellow. As a matter of fact, the only reason he could imagine for there to be wind in the enclosed pressure system of the bellow was…
“Khlop? KHLOP! I really need to tell you about a possibly unknown phenomenon called the pressure system! I mean, our little game before was enjoyable, really, it was, however, this is on quite a different scale when compared to wining a game of warden and escapee between friends! I am truly in need of you to lend me your ear, as we all seem to have found ourselves in a… Less-than-ideal situation!” Oliver called out in a voice best described as hopeful cheer mixed with an undertone of suppressed panic, not unlike how he had spoken about the coronavirus when it began to expand in force.
“So, you admit that it was all a lie?” Khlop asked as she slowly turned and strutted towards him.
“What do you think I admitted to moments ago? Stealing your blanket? Yes, it was all a lie, I could never kill another sentient creature, I just… couldn’t. But like I said, there are exponentially more important, and vastly more dangerous, problems to cope with at the moment.” Oliver said, with a tinge of panicked scrambling in his voice.
Khlop simply stood still, looking at him in a way he could only assume would have been accompanied by an expectant eyebrow raise from creatures who had those.
“Alright, the abridged version is that wind appears when large temperature changes occur, now, that is usually caused by the sun, however there is no sun down here. And as funny as it would be, I find it unlikely for there to have been dropped a gigantic glacier into the bellow. All of which leaves me with the conclusion that some mis intentioned person with less-than-ideal brain capacities has not considered where the constantly falling leaves might travel to, and has thus set them ablaze with a stray spark or fallen piece of firewood, dooming us to be consumed by an inferno should we not act” Oliver fell to his knees in front of Khlop, visibly startling her “now, please, I beg you to allow me passage to where I entered so I can find the other camp and inform them of the coming disaster. I do not care what you do with me afterwards, so long as you give me this chance to save as many as I can” Oliver pled, imploring her to believe him with all he had as he stared into her dark eyes.